October 29th, my brother called me during the last hour of my Saturday class. Once the class dismissed, I checked WhatsApp message that my brother left me: Grandfather passed away.
I called my sister and my aunt telling them to get ready leaving to Jogja as I got us three train tickets leaving at 22PM. We arrived Sunday morning and I didn’t get the chance to see my Grandpa for the very last time.
I can’t remember last time I visited him, probably last year. He wasn’t doing much physical work anymore at that time, but God knows he just couldn’t keep himself still. So he would go first thing in the morning around the backyard that has bamboo trees and start collecting woods or falling twigs to make fire. Back in the days, the villagers made fire from woods to cook and my Grandpa did the only thing he knew: he collected woods though today nobody cook with woods anymore.
He is survived by 6 children, 20 grandchildren, 10 great-grandchildren. He was preceded in death by my Mother in 2011 and my Grandmother in 2015.
That Sunday afternoon when most of my aunts and cousins gathered, we talked about the compound/land that my grandpa has left us. We discussed that the compound was quite big and I even suggested that the street to the compound needs to be named after him. Then one of my aunts reminded us that some of the grandchildren are named after my Grandpa. Part of my brother’s last name is after my Grandpa’s name: Yuda. And my cousin’s name is also after my Grandpa’s: Arta.
It struck me to remember that someone had halfheartedly wished (or joked) that one day he’d like to name one of his children: Arta.
Well, for that someone.. You haven’t given me the chance to let you know that I haven’t come up with children’s name yet, but shall I have child/ren then I will name him/her after my Grandpa: Arta.
In loving memory:
April 1926-Oct 2016